


Death Finds a Way

by chelome



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Backstory, Canonical Character Death, Character Death, Happy Ending, M/M, Mind Control, Necromancy, Original Character(s), Pre-Canon, kravitz has been through some shit
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-04
Updated: 2018-03-01
Packaged: 2019-03-13 10:19:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13568526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chelome/pseuds/chelome
Summary: "I wanted to be a conductor. But unfortunately, you know, just... life finds a way, or death, I guess, the goddess of death."From the very first moment, Kravitz's life had been marked by Death. Then, in every chaotic moment after, a thread of fate pulls him forward towards some determined end.aka how Kravitz became the Grim Reaper





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> hello my lovelies! Just a few notes before we dive right into the adventure. This story is going to explore Kravitz's backstory and how he came to work for the Raven Queen. It will primarily focus on those two and their relationship. I did tag this Taakitz but ya boy won't be popping up until the end so if you came for that good good Taako content you may have a long wait ahead of you. 
> 
> Also, things are going to get pretty dark for Kravitz. After all, you don't just sign up with the Raven Queen for the sick benefits package. Our bone boy has been through some shit but I'm not going to get too graphic with violence or anything like that.
> 
> This is my first time writing for this fandom and first time writing in a while so your feedback is greatly appreciated!!

The Raven Queen watched the familiar scene before her play out. She stood post by the bed as the young mother struggled on pale-faced and weak, no one could see her but the others in the room all felt her foreboding presence. The mere fear of Death had long since passed into the sinking dread of inevitability. But even as each effort leeched away her vitality, the mortal woman pushed on with an intensity birthed of that primal love the Raven Queen had witnessed in so many of her charges but could never quite comprehend. The Raven Queen kneeled and laid a hand on the struggling mother’s arm. The woman fought with the bravery of a thousand legendary heroes, like so many other women before here, but her fate had been determined. The delicate shining thread had been snipped long ago.

With a final rattling cry, the mortal collapsed backwards before she could hear the answering call from her healthy newborn son. 

Just as one new shining soul enters the material plane, another abruptly exits. A quick exchange. A perfect swap that seems to instantaneously balance the ledger. The sort of quirk of fate that sounds so clean and simple from the objective stand point that it almost borders on poetic. However many times she watched this same scene play out, though, the Raven Queen could never really see it like that. Instead, this always felt like the coldest and cruelest enactment of the natural order she was bound to protect. 

She gently tugs the soul from the still body and feels the exhaustion, the terror, and the overwhelming anguish radiating off of it. Gently consoling, the Raven Queen rises and begins to prepare the soul for its crossing. 

The bright soul starts to calm under her influence but just as she is about to open a passageway to the astral plane, the Raven Queen hears the first few notes and halts as they tug on her. Still cradling the soulfire in her hands, she turns to see the new father cradling his son and gripping tightly to his dead wife’s hand as he sings. 

The Raven Queen knew it to be one favored by some of her followers in this area: a traditional ballad meant to guide departed spirits on their journey. His words shaky and fragile but the notes ring out clear and bright. Bardic magic weaved into each refrain. 

The sole in her hands began to vibrate, echoing the grief and love poured into the song. It pulsated and began to swell as the tumultuous emotions inside emerged once more. This time the Raven Queen just let it ride out the storm. She knew some souls just needed a moment, especially ones like this one who had such strong bonds still tying them to the living. She let the soul continue to grow and expand until it took on a shape mirroring its corporeal form. 

The soul-woman looked down at her son and covered her mouth to stifle a silent cry. She floated over and crouched down to try and encircle her family in her arms. 

The Raven Queen gave her a quiet moment to just sit with her loved ones as the husband’s song played on. It was rare for souls to be able to maintain a form on the material plane for this long but she suspected the considerable power of the bardic magic at work was allowing her to cling on. Eventually, the Raven Queen strode over and knelt to leave a comforting hand on the soul.

“It’s time to be moving on.”

The soul nodded solemnly and quickly leaned down to plant a kiss on her son’s head. The infant squirmed and smiled. The soul-woman rose and stared down the Raven Queen with the same ferocity she’d shown in the last moments of her life. 

“Look after him for me, please.”

The Raven Queen glanced over at the child, still so innocent and unaware of all that fate had already stolen from him. The last verse of his father’s song lulling him to sleep. 

_“There is no night without a dawning… No winter without a spring…”_

The Raven Queen reached out a hand to the soul-woman and nodded, “I will.”

Relief rolled off of the soul like a wave and it gladly followed the Raven Queen through the rift and into what lay beyond. 

The Raven Queen had seen this familiar scene before. She’d watched the tragedy play out a million times and would see it a million times again. And along the way she had made a million reassuring promises just like this one. After all, she was the goddess of the Crossing and eventually she protected all souls when they came to her for their journey. 

…

The half-orc man spluttered out one last rattling bloody cough before his body finally succumbed. The Raven Queen stepped forward, the only other presence in this room. Abandoned: like the hundreds of others that she was also attending to at this precise moment. She reached down and plucked the soul from the wilted frame. His soul was so dim and exhausted from the long weeks of battling this illness that he dutifully followed the Raven Queen through the rift without question. 

She passed the half-orc man’s soul along to the processing department and took a moment to collect herself before she was inevitably called back to the material plane.

The Raven Queen was tired. As an ethereal being, she didn’t need rest but these past few days had stretched her and her emissaries thin. This epidemic was far beyond anything she had seen in centuries. Hordes of people were passing long before their fated time and panic was reigning amongst those yet to be touched by the scourge. 

Her emissaries had quickly dispatched the young necromancer responsible but not before he let loose this unnatural horror. The plague had spread beyond anyone’s control in the dense urban districts. People had been swarming to this town following the mining boom but now those who still could fled, likely carrying disease and destruction with them. 

To add to the egregious offenses, proper treatment of the dead and dying was forgotten amidst the hysteria. So many just cast aside without any reverence or respect and without suitable send-offs, too many souls were lost. Slipping through the cracks and unable to journey on to their rightful rest. 

At least her mortal servants still understood the importance of the work that must be done. Many were working tirelessly to take care of those about to pass and to collect the abandoned remains in need of burial. But it wasn’t enough. The Raven Queen’s reapers would likely be cleaning up this mess for years to come and in the meantime countless souls would suffer. 

The Raven Queen’s musings were interrupted when she felt the pull of need from the material plane. A soul ready to pass and reaching out for assistance. Her sacred duty called so she composed herself and stepped back into the material plane. 

This time she stood with a halfling woman, abandoned and alone like all the others. The flesh lost its battle and the Raven Queen knelt to draw the halfling woman’s soul out from a ruined body. She blanketed the poor soul with reassurance and successful shepherded it through the rift.  
Before she followed, the Raven Queen paused when the sound of familiar music carried to her through the crowded building. The beautiful ballad was one she’d heard just eight short years ago. Each note heavy with grief and laced with immense power just as it had been then. 

She traced it to its source and stepped in to a room similar to the one she just left. Except in this one, a dying man was not left to struggle on his own but rather a small boy sat with him. He clutched desperately at his father’s hand, tears streaming down his small dark face as he sang. 

Voice soft and trembling, _“A..And beyond the d..d..dark horizon…Our hearts will o..once more sing…”_

The same song his father had sung to his mother on the day he had entered this world only to have her leave it. The Raven Queen felt the bardic magic weaving all around the room, filling it with warmth. It transfixed her. There were echoes of the past but also the future. A strange thread that seemed to connect this human child to her. 

“Kravitz,” the mortal man interrupted. His voice so weak and strained that it was barely audible. 

Kravitz immediately halted his song and looked down at his dying father. The man seemed to barely contain the overwhelming despair in his eyes as he drank in his son’s face. 

“I’m so sorry, son,” he rasped. Kravitz’s small frame rattled with a sob and his father lifted a frail hand to smooth down his son’s short curly hair. “Shhh, shhh. You need to be strong, Kravitz. You’ll have to look after yourself now.”

Kravitz nodded solemnly and the Raven Queen felt a pang remembering the promise she had made on that fateful night. 

Kravitz’s father fell back against the bed and his breathing became more labored. The Raven Queen knew he only had a few more moments left on this world. The young boy picked up the song once more. The words were stuttered and quiet but the bardic magic still hit the Raven Queen with the full force of emotions as before. 

Aided by his son’s song, the soul passed on without any assistance from the Raven Queen. She wasn’t needed here and there were many voices calling for her in all directions as the plague raged on but she couldn’t leave. The Raven Queen stood watching as this boy cradled his father’s corpse and lamented. A child living a life cursed by Death. 

Her promise to this child’s mother had been empty those many years ago. A harmless comfort to ease the departed soul’s suffering. A promise she had made to countless others without hesitation. She was the goddess of the Crossing, after all, and she was charged with aiding souls journey through death. The journey through life, no matter how many promises, was no concern of hers. 

_Look after him for me…_

She looked down at this orphaned boy, knowing the promise was nothing, but still felt overwhelmed by her failure. 

The ballad still trailed on as she sent a brief vision to one of her devotees gathering the dead in another area of the building. The Raven Queen then stepped forward and laid a hand on Kravitz’s back. He screamed as the mark of the Raven Queen’s blessing burned itself into his flesh. 

She departed knowing that her devotees would understand what the black marks on his back would mean right away. They would take him in and give him a home in the temple where he could assist in their noble work. It was the least she could do.

…

The plague raged on for five more long years. Through all the suffering, the Raven Queen found some small comfort in seeing Kravitz. He seemed content in the work they gave him at the temple. She got to sit in and listen as Kravitz’s song guided hundreds of souls through their passing. Her help wasn’t needed for these journeys but she still came each and every time he did. Kravitz’s music became a bright spot in her dark and tedious days.

Eventually, the epidemic died down and she heard Kravitz’s song less and less. 

Then, for years, she stopped hearing it at all and while she missed it, the Raven Queen resigned herself to be glad that the boy who had so long been surrounded by Death was finally free of her haunting. 

She would see him again. That was a guarantee. Perhaps, she’d even ask him to sing his song for her during his own crossing. As silly and sentimental as that would be, the Raven Queen rather liked that idea. It seemed a nice end for a soul with such a terrible start and she would get to hear Kravitz’s song one more time. 

As Istus would have it, the Raven Queen would get to hear Kravitz’s song again. The echo at an end of a thread. A thread marked by Death and cut much too short for this life.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this one took a lot longer to get out than I planned, I was on vacation for a bit and didn't have a ton of time to write. The whole story is pretty much outlined so I'll try to be a lot quicker with updates and I'm hoping to give you all new chapters every week or so!

Kravitz sat out behind the temple plucking at his lute and soaking up the sun. It was still early in the day and the market in the square in front of him was only just beginning to set up shop. Handfuls of people milling about, enjoying some calm before the hard work of the day ahead. A few initiates were sprawled out on the temple steps, ditching their dark heavy robes and basking in the first warm day of the spring. This was always Kravitz’s favorite time of year. The energy was just infectious. With the struggles of winter finally survived and shed, everyone just seemed so much lighter. Though, this had already been a much happier winter than those he’d been through before. The plague had finally turned a corner and no longer were people arriving at the temple in droves. The inundation of sick and dying had, at last, calmed to a slow trickle. 

Kravitz was relieved but at the same time, he couldn’t help feeling a little lost. His life had been consumed by this plague and he didn’t know what came next. He had no home, no family. Just the shadowed memories of his father and a pair of black wings etched into his back that the priestess said marked him as chosen by the Raven Queen herself. Chosen for what though?

They kept telling him that it was a blessing but Kravitz wasn’t too sure about that. Was he just supposed to waste away in this dreary temple? Spend the rest of his life preparing rotting corpses and cleaning up old offerings just because Death singled him out for some reason? Death had already claimed so much of his past. It didn’t seem fair that it also wanted to lay a stake in his future.

The heated shouts of an argument brewing between two merchants startled Kravitz out of his thoughts. Both red-faced and screaming, they seemed to have differing opinions about who had the right to set up at the corner stall. 

Kravitz heard a sigh over his shoulder and looked up to see Heather, one of the middle-aged priestesses who had always held a particular fondness for him. She shook her head as she took a seat next to him on the stairs, “I swear those old fools have this same argument every year.”

Kravitz snickered and looked back to see that many of the passersby barely gave the fight a second glance. The chipped angry words fading into the background hum of the filling market square. Kravitz loved how the hectic chatter always seemed to make a music of its own. Friends hailing one another, neighbors fighting, shoppers haggling over cost and quantity. It reminded him of when he was really little, before his father had moved them into the city. Back then they lived right next to the old forest that Kravitz had loved to explore. The song of the morning market took him back to what it was like stepping into the forest around this time of year. All the birds chittering and calling as loud as they could to be heard over the cacophony but all failing to stand out and instead fading into the clamor. 

Heather laid a gentle hand on his head and asked, “My dear, I’ve been having those dreadful dreams again, would you mind playing that song I love?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

He placed his fingers in their proper order on the strings and began to strum with practiced ease. It was a simple airy melody that he had picked up rather easily after hearing Heather hum it to herself a while ago. Laying back, Kravitz let his eyes sink shut as the notes floated around him. He reached within and tapped into his power to weave his magic into the song. He sent out waves of calm energy hoping to soothe whatever lingering unease followed Heather from her dreams. 

The song eventually wound down and Kravitz opened his eyes to the bright day. Heather grinned down at him looking significantly more light-hearted than she had before, “Thank you, dear child. You have quite a gift.”

She stood and walked back inside. Kravitz sat up as she left and finally took notice that while he played, the town had seemed to quiet around him. No longer were the two old men arguing with one another. Instead, they both seemed content to calmly prepare their wares without any further fuss. 

A slow singular applause startled Kravitz out of his observation. He looked over to see a figure approaching him from the shadowed alley. 

“Bravo! What a performance!” 

As they stepped closer and into the sunlight, Kravitz could see that the figure was, in fact, a half-elf man who looked to be no more than a few years older than himself. He was tall and slender, all sharp angles, but still moved with an unnatural grace. His blonde hair caught the sun in such a way that he seemed to be wreathed in golden fire. It was cropped short along the sides to show off slightly pointed ears studded with glimmering silver. His clothes were battered and well-worn but he carried himself with such confidence that he may as well have been wearing the best finery money could buy. Kravitz felt completely dumbfounded staring at him. Never had he seen anything so beautiful.

The half-elf smirked, bright blue eyes twinkling. He leaned casually against the wall next to where Kravitz was sitting. “Well the presentation could use a bit of work but I can’t argue with the results,” he said gesturing over towards the rival merchants still contentedly minding their own business. “That was amazing! How the hell did you do that?”

Kravitz blushed, ducking his head, “It’s nothing really. A spell someone taught me.”

Kravitz remembers the day clearly even though it had been five years. It was during the very first month he had arrived at the temple as a scared eight-year-old. People were suffering all around him and he tried to help the only way he could. When the sick would finally lose their battle, he would sit and sing the death song his father had taught him. He didn't know how he knew but he could tell it helped. It was probably his imagination but he sometimes could feel their spirit pass on while he sang. As he was going from dying patient to dying patient, a sick bard had grabbed him and handed Kravitz his old lute begging him to play. He taught Kravitz the spell to calm people's emotions. Hoping for anything to ease the pain and terror overwhelming him.

The half-elf chuckled, pulling Kravitz from his memories. Rolan raised a delicate eyebrow, “I know the spell but I’ve never seen it work anywhere near that well before. You’ve got some talent.”

He reached out a ringed hand, “Name’s Rolan.”

Beaming from the praise, Kravitz stood and holding his lute in one hand shook Rolan’s with the other, “I’m Kravitz.” 

Rolan grinned, the expression lighting up his delicate features, “I think we can help each other, Kravitz. Watch this.”

He pulled out a small nondescript wand and pointed towards the ground at the center of the market. Kravitz stared transfixed. He’d never seen a wizard working up close before. Rolan muttered to himself with slight swoops and flicks of his wand. He then reached into a small inside pocket of his dark blue tunic and removed a small lightly glowing orb. Rolan smashed the orb on the ground and an answering crack came from the middle of the square. 

With a start, Kravitz saw the paved stone split open and a geyser shoot out. Shocked screams filled the air and a few people ran as others stood frozen, mouths agape, taking in the spectacle. Rolan winked at Kravitz before calmly striding up towards the now abandoned stalls on this side of the square. 

The screams turned in to oohs and aahs as the water began to flash different colors and bright flowers magically bloomed wherever the water hit the ground. Kravitz laughed as Rolan casually strolled from stall to stall. He looked like a typical morning shopper browsing through the day's wares. He first plucked a rucksack from one empty shop front and filled it with various odds and ends as the owners remained riveted to the magic illusion. 

Finally, he threw the bag over his arm and stepped towards the center of the square. Kravitz lost him as he got swallowed up by the enraptured crowd. Then, the whole spectacle exploded into a shower of bright sparks and there stood Rolan grinning and bowing to the crowd. A few chuckled and turned back to their work, many more cheered, and a handful tossed coins at his feet. Eventually, the crowd dispersed and the market fell back into its normal rhythms. Kravitz watched the merchants closest to him carefully but they all seemed too distracted and happy to notice that their stall may be missing a few things. 

Rolan gathered the coins, tucked them into a pocket of his tunic, and strode back over to where Kravitz sat. Grinning maniacally, he flourished his arms in another exaggerated bow before Kravitz.

“See, it’s amazing what can be accomplished with just a bit of theatrics. Turns out everyone’s a sucker for a bit of flair,” he said tossing the bag to Kravitz. “That should be enough to get you started.”

“Started?” Kravitz asked stumbling to his feet. 

“I think you and I would make a great team,” he said, clapping a hand on Kravitz’s shoulder. “I’ve been hired on to a caravan that’s leaving town this afternoon. I’m helping some traders disguise the valuables they're transporting to the coast. How’d you like to come with me? A bard with a talent like yours is always a welcome distraction on these things. What do you say? Want to see the world?”

Kravitz felt that same jittery impatience that had been building up for months now swell in a buzzing crescendo. Before he had a way out, the temple had merely felt like a monotonous burden but now the thought of stepping back through those cold walls felt suffocating. A half-way house to hold him while he waited to discover whatever duty the Raven Queen had chained him too. Kravitz couldn’t do this. He couldn’t be a prisoner to whatever dark fate she’d marked him with. His whole being ached to go. To follow this mesmerizing stranger. To learn, to see, to journey on. To live.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you all for reading and thank you so much for the feedback so far!
> 
> my muse is a sad grumpy gremlin living under my bed. kudos and comments help me coax it out of its hidey hole.

**Author's Note:**

> this first chapter is kind of a prequel to the rest which will be told primarily from Kravitz's POV. I hope you enjoyed it! and please do picture a baby Kravitz in a plague doctor mask because that image has given me so much life.
> 
> Kudos and comments make my pathetic little heart explode :)
> 
> Edit: forgot to credit this originally but the lyrics for Kravitz's song are from a poem by Helen Steiner Rice


End file.
